


Two Men In a Graveyard

by geneticus



Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: Gen, Minor Character Death, Poetry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-17
Updated: 2016-07-17
Packaged: 2018-07-24 14:45:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7512311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/geneticus/pseuds/geneticus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><br/><i>Two men stood in a graveyard,</i><br/><i>one looking at a grave:</i><br/><i>a friend who passed a while ago,</i><br/><i>a man he couldn't save.</i><br/> </p>
<p>A poem about Kaneki and Amon sharing a quiet moment, reflecting a bit on death and their own fates.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Two Men In a Graveyard

**Author's Note:**

> So I have a lot of feelings about ghouls and their deaths, and how their lives are remembered and how their bodies are treated posthumously compared to how humans' are. I also have a lot of feelings about Kaneki and Amon's relationship and how they were absolutely set up to have more interesting conversations and bond despite supposedly being on opposite sides, but it didn't really pan out in canon. It was so disappointing. 
> 
> So I planned out a short fic about the two of them meeting in Amon's favorite hangout spot for like half of canon (Mado's gravesite) and talking. But it kept rhyming, and it just ended up becoming a poem, and now I'm sharing it here. Because even if it's not much I still wanna see more content on here with Kaneki and Amon thinking about Deep Shit™, and more discussion about how fucking tragic ghoul's lives and deaths are overall in TG.
> 
> Hope you like it. Please feel free to hmu in the comments or such to talk meta about ghouls, if you're as interested in it as I am.

Two men stood in a graveyard,

one looking at a grave:

a friend who passed a while ago,

a man he couldn't save.

The other looked out to the field

of stones and grass and sky,

and for a while naught was said,

with naught said in reply.

 

The other spoke out to the field

_"I'll have none of this, will I?_

_I'll rest not in a grassy plot_

_after that day I die._

_No stone rememb'ring me will stand_

_upon a graveyard hill._

_The name my mother gave me and_

_whispered when I was ill,_

_will be forgot to history_

_and my ashes likely fill_

_only some secret sterile urn,_

_or be intern'd in some unmarked hole -_

_with all my comrades' beside me_

_together down below._

 

_But you'll remember me, I think,_

_for more than just my crimes,_

_or for the battlefield name_

_that'll linger past my time._

_I hope you won't forget the boy_

_you met, who'd have been kind_

_had war and hunger touched him not_

_nor tortures wrecked his mind._

_I pray, recall it, when life forsakes me._

_For that young boy's sake, at least._

_Please."_

 

The first man just kept gazing

at the tombstone on the ground.

He looked not at the other man

with hair pale as a shroud.

He knew he would remember him,

but not what he should say.

He knew they'd hold each others' lives

in their hands again one day.

But for now these two fated foes

stood side by side like friends.

Knowing that departed thence,

meeting again might spell an end.

And if one died he'd be buried

beside the man he'd known.

But the other'd be forgotten.

With neither grave nor stone.

 

Then he looked up from that gravestone,

finding one thing to say:

_"I don't think, even if I tried,_

_I'd ever forget your name."_

The other turned to meet his gaze

and as their eyes met, he smiled.

And so two men in a graveyard stood

together for a while.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
